He Was Hers
by Miss Mila
Summary: He was hers; she wouldn't let him go without a fight. After "Jacksonville", slight spoilers. Bolivia fic.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Fringe characters, places, themes, etc. No copyright infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **After the infamous "Jacksonville". Slight spoilers.

* * *

At the end of the day she wanted to relax. She wanted to unwind. She wanted to let her hair down and just simply be Olivia. Not Agent Dunham. And it was working out well so far. Peter had invited her out to drinks -- and she wanted to believe it was a "just friends" sort of gesture, but after the day's events…she knew it was more -- and she was happy to accept.

Happy, that is, until she came to his door. She knocked; he answered. It was as simple as that. And yet it wasn't. Because the man was flickering. Glimmering, Walter had called it. The damn man was FLICKERING.

She felt a look of shock grace her features, and she painstakingly pulled a smile on her face, for his sake. For her sake. He didn't notice; he went to get his coat. Walter leaned towards her. He made her promise not to tell Peter. He knew. He KNEW Peter wasn't from this world. This screwed up, sorry excuse of a universe. He knew and Peter didn't. And before, she hadn't either. But now she did.

It changed nothing, she tried to tell herself. _It changes everything, _she thought. Maybe, maybe before it wouldn't have made a difference. But now it did. Now she was in too deep. He was in too deep. They were in too deep. Together.

He came back down the stairs, coat in hand -- the coat didn't flicker -- and he waved a goodbye at Walter (who'd composed his features to be those of a man happy to see his son spending time with a friend) and led her out the door.

* * *

The flickering didn't stop. Much. It died down. But it was still distracting. As distracting as a glimmering man in front of her could be.

"Olivia?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"Hm?"

He leaned over to her on the bar stool and wiped a thumb over her cheek, "You're crying."

Damn. She was.

She quickly wiped her eyes and shrugged, "It's nothing."

He looked at her -- with that look that made it seem as if he was looking right into her, right through her, "If you say so."

She knew he wouldn't let it go.

* * *

She managed to focus on the drinks; the drinks that kept coming in front of her.

"Y'know, I've heard that when _normal _people have drinks they do a thing called 'talk'," he said teasingly, then frowned when he saw her mouth turn down.

_Normal people, _she thought. They weren't normal. Even before today, they still weren't normal.

"Liv, let's go home, okay?" He asked softly. Her mind was somewhere else.

She nodded, trying to blink back tears and put on a blank face. He threw bills down on the table and led her, hand on the small of her back, to the car.

Olivia reached to open the passenger's side door, but was stopped by Peter shutting the door closed.

She turned around and gave an annoyed glare, but she didn't realize how close he actually was. He made no move to move back; instead he trapped her there, leaning his hands against the car.

"What?"

"Olivia. Something's bothering you."

It was a statement. She nodded. Why lie?

He restrained himself from rolling his eyes at her; he never could get out a straight answer from her. "Can I help?"

A sob rose in her throat as she closed her eyes. She shook her head once. No. He couldn't.

Peter recognized the change in her demeanor. His hands dropped from the car and onto her shoulders.

He felt so real. So…solid.

She felt the tears leak out of her eyes for the second time that night. Expect, this time, she leaned into his chest, crying, as he wrapped his arms around her in surprise.

* * *

There was nothing she could do. She was supposed to be the one with the answers. The one that could _do _something. The one that could help. And she couldn't. Peter couldn't either. He was from their world. Not hers. And this shocked her more than all the other things she'd seen over the years. He wasn't hers. Even if he wanted to be, he couldn't.

Yet here he was, with his arms around her tightly, whispering meaningless words made with meaningless vowels and meaningless consonance. He was there for _her. _Not for anyone else.

* * *

Peter was surprised. Olivia was crying. Olivia, who was seemingly fine before, was crying. And he didn't know why. She held on to him desperately, as if afraid she would lose him. And that surprised him most. He wasn't leaving. He wasn't going anywhere. Not without her.

"Peter?"

"Yeah, Liv?"

"Peter. I'm -- I'm scared."

He couldn't help but smile at the similarity of what was going on now to what was going on before. "Don't be, Liv. I'm not going anywhere."

And he kissed her.

Like he should have before.

And she kissed him back, like she should have before.

She kissed him back, hoping that that might keep him there -- just for another day.

After all, he was hers; she wasn't going to let him go without a fight.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This hasn't been beta'd, and it was written on a whim. Any feedback is appreciated.


End file.
